The Color of Sacrifice
by Cynder7777
Summary: The words they say blur into a flood of sound and color, swirls of unrecognizable voices and red. So much red. AU. Tragedy.


**A/N: **Guess who's posting for the first time in forever! Hope you like tragedies. I had to write a story for school so decided to kill two birds with one stone and make a fanfiction in the middle of it. Enjoy!

**The Color of Sacrifice**

The warm murmur of conversation resounds in the flamboyant banquet hall, alive with vigor and elegance. The guests speak with reformed grace, the epitome of sophistication in their dress suits and sleek black dresses. The waiters trot between pods of guests, offering tall glasses of pale red wine. The women smile delicately between brilliant red lips, eyes guarded.

A man pushes through the crowd, dressed his finest in a black suit jacket, an expense watch clinging to his wrist. Smiling graciously, he shakes hands with various guests, straightening his red tie and slicking back his raven hair between encounters. A woman follows behind him, a genuine smile carved onto her face between curled locks of pink hair.

The man's gaze flicks to his watch. Grimacing inwardly, he accepts a glass of wine and smothers his slight anxiety in the tart red liquid, then turns to nudge the woman who follows behind him. They both push through the guests and towards the raised staircase; he shakes hands and pats shoulders as they move. All conversation dies as the man stops on the fifth step to survey the crowd of aristocrats, a charming smile coaxed across his lips. A respectful silence holds the room as the man greets them, courteously thanking them for coming to his company's fundraiser. Everyone listens as he speaks with the ease of young experience, cracking jokes in tune with clever ploys to wheedle money away from their hands to line his pockets.

No one pays any attention to the man who slips through the crowd, moving with the slightest limp from an injury long forgotten, his arm tucked into his jacket coat. He pushes toward the front as if trying to get a better view, smiling apologetically behind thick glasses. He smoothes his dress shirt and tucks ashen hair behind his ear, unaware of the three tiny splatters of red on his collar, red as deep as blood. Arriving in the front, the man fingers inside his jacket, eyes surveying the area almost coldly.

The only one who notices this peculiar detail was the woman, standing two steps below the speaker and watching the crowd with warm emerald eyes. Her gaze sharpens on him, her perfectly manicured red nails tapping nervously against her thigh. His cold gaze flicks to her for a millisecond before returning to the man, who in the ease of his speech had moved down to the bottom step of the stairs.

She glances away from the man in the crowd for just a second – more than enough time for him to shift his arm, allowing the dark cylinder of his weapon to point at the speaker. She returns her gaze and notices the faintest reflection of light from inside his jacket. Her pupils dilate in surprise and she barely begins to move before the echoing _bang_ reverberates.

Chaos unfolds. Women scream, ducking behind men who widen their stance and scan frantically for the perpetrator. The assassin shoves people out of his way, racing towards the doors where his red Acura waits. The butlers shout, some racing towards the speaker, others toward the fleeing man.

A moment of confusion captures the speaker; he shakes his head, dazed by the flash and the erupting disorder. It takes him a second to evaluate his own condition and realize he's alright. Pushing himself up from the ground where he fell, he nods to the people asking if he's okay, hand against his temple. His fingers flash to his red tie which he straightens, a compulsion encouraged by habit.

His lingering onyx gaze falls on the woman who had stood next to him – his secretary and friend. She lies on her back, eyes cracked open. Staggering over to her, he offers her a hand up. That's when he notices the dark stain forming just over her stomach that left a streak of red on her clenched hand, the torn fabric of her perfectly pressed black dress, the pain that mars her dainty features.

He kneels by her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Removing his jacket, he holds it to the wound, discovering with horror the damage done by the bullet. A gaping hole that doesn't naturally occur in a healthy middle aged woman had just been ripped into his loyal companion because of him.

Her tongue flickers in her mouth, a flash of red against her paling skin as she tries to squeeze the last words out, tears swelling in the corner of her eyes. The man brushes her cheek, trying to whisper something, anything, to comfort her. Men shout around them, some in horror, others anger, others in a desperate plead for the ambulance to hurry.

The fire in her eyes fades, surrendering into the smallest ember of life before disappearing into lifeless ash. The man stares in silent grief, refusing to shift his gaze away from the dull orbs that once shined with strength. He rubs his face gently, pulling his hand away moist with his own tears that drip from sullen eyes already beginning to puff and redden. He bleakly recognizes the voices of his peers, consoling words pouring from their grieving hearts. The words they say blur into a flood of sound and color, swirls of unrecognizable voices and red. So much red.

The flashing lights of the ambulances arrive only a few minutes later, sending in a wave of paramedics who encourage the man away from the body. He lets his fingers brush her loose curls one last time, leaving the faintest streak of blood in her perfect hair, another scar to her breathtaking appearance.

They guide him away, gentle but firm. He lets them, eyes blankly lingering on nothing, incapable of seeing through the blur of his tears. His gaze drops to his hands, a glazed haze from his view.

Hands that glow crimson with sacrifice.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the change in pace!

Ya know, since I like never update, I have an author you guys should really check out if you're looking for something else to read. **Sunnyburst30** updates about as rarely as I do but she has the best ideas I've read like ever! Seriously! Check out her stuff and badger her about updating!

Happy reading and Merry Christmas! (I know this story isn't very festive but eh screw tradition)

Cynder7777


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